Takes place somewhere between 1x09
"So... I know I may have been a bit over my head when I asked you to help me get into my dad's office, but I really want to get some things out of there," Bradley began, sighing quietly. "So maybe... maybe you could find a way to get me in, or talk to Gil, or something. Anything, really. I just want to get in there."
Dylan was kind enough to offer her a smile.
"I know what you went through probably sucks," he said, biting his lip. "I talked to Gil at work today, and he told me that I could take over the office. I didn't ask him about bringing you in, but I'm allowed to go in there. I could sneak you in and let you take what you need to take if you want."
"Really?" Bradley asked, her face lighting up. "Thank you, Dylan!" She leaped forward and pulled him in for a hug.
Her arms grazed against his back as they hugged. He, surprisingly, closed his eyes and hugged her back. It was the least he could do for her, right? Not long ago, she witnessed her father speeding down the road, burnt to death. She had to see his skin burnt and blackened. It must have been awful.
"Okay, I'll talk to you later, Emma," Norman said sweetly, stepping away from the smiling red headed girl. He turned around, and saw Dylan and Bradley in a sweet embrace. He flinched. How could this be happening?
In his shining blue eyes, there was that glint. And it wasn't the good kind of glint. It was the bad kind. The one that came when he was angry. Emma had walked away too soon, so she didn't get to see it. She could have stopped him, but she left. He took slow steps towards his half brother and his crush, who were hugging outside of the motel. All his pot head friends were in their respective motel rooms.
"Norman?" Bradley said, pulling back from Dylan. "Hi."
"Hello," he mumbled, still thinking.
He remembered the dream he had. The bad dream. The one where he was drowning Bradley in her bath tub. It was so evil. He never wanted to hurt anybody. He never hurt anybody. Unless he had that glint in his eyes. Then, he unleashed himself. He didn't hold back.
"I don't like you that way."
It repeated in his head. She didn't like him that way. Not even after they slept together, and connected on so many levels. So, was Dylan her next victim? Would she sleep with Norman's half brother, too? His eye nearly twitched at the thought of that. She would stay with that asshole Richard Slymore, and she would keep leading guys on! Wouldn't she?
Dylan furrowed his eyebrows and asked, "Norman? What's wrong?"
He remembered the look Norman had in his eyes... He had it the night that Dylan had called Norma a whore. He came up to Dylan with this glint in his eyes— a killer glint— and he came up to his own half brother and attacked him. If Dylan wasn't stronger than him, he would have been killed in a second, because the kid came up to him with some kind of meat knife. Some shit like that, he couldn't really remember. He had lots of beer that night, so it was pretty hazy, but he knew it happened. And he knew that Norman didn't remember trying to kill him after it happened.
It was weird. It was almost as if Norman turned into a different person when he got angry. He became ruthless and attacked people when he was angry, but when he calmed himself down, he didn't seem to remember what happened when he was in that bad state.
"Die!" Norman screamed, coming at Dylan with his fist. He attempted a punch at his half brother, but it was a failure. Dylan caught the punch before it could hit his face, and blocked it skillfully.
"What's wrong with you, Norman?" Dylan said, letting go of his arm.
Norman didn't answer. He decided to switch targets. He knew Dylan was a better fighter than him, so he went for a more vulnerable target. He went for Bradley. She was just a vulnerable, weak, powerless girl. She couldn't do anything if he attacked her. There was a half smile curling on the edges of his lips. It was almost wicked.
So he slapped Bradley, hitting her right cheek with as much force as he could. Dylan's eyes widened at the sight of him hurting his own crush like that.
"Norman!" Dylan yelled. "What the hell are you doing, you ass?"
Tears fell from Bradley's eyes.
She let out a, "Thank you for your help, Dylan. I'm going to go home."
And with that, Bradley Martin was gone. She walked home, mortified with the way Norman had treated her. She knew that she was wrong to hook up with him, but she thought that they had become friends. She wasn't expecting to get slapped by him. She was asking Dylan for a favor that night, anyways. Not him!
And he snapped out of it as soon as Bradley left.
"How could you do that to her?" Dylan demanded, rolling his eyes. "What did she even do to you? She's never going to like you back if you keep slapping her face, dumb ass."
"What?" Norman choked. "Who?"
"Obviously Bradley, man!" Dylan cried.
"I didn't slap Bradley," Norman said, shaking his head. "Why are you making things up? You're making this up, right? I would never hurt her. I told you, when I drowned her, it was just in my dream. I wouldn't really hurt her. I like her a lot."
Dylan took a breath. He stared at the floor. What was wrong with Norman?